


Doing The Right Thing

by katling



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst, and slithery, and the ineffable plan, aziraphale approves, but it exists in this fic, crowley is tempting, it was established after the apocawhoops, post-armageddon't, thinking about the great plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 20:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: Aziraphale has a nightmare and he broods on it until Crowley wakes up and some conclusions are reached about the Great Plan and the Ineffable Plan and their parts in both.





	Doing The Right Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wasn't going to flagrantly abuse footnotes again. I lied.

Aziraphale had not often spent time looking out the windows of the small apartment above his bookshop. Mostly that was because he rarely spent time in the apartment except to make tea and occasionally to read when the weather was bad and he wanted somewhere a little more cozy than the bookshop downstairs.

Tonight, though, he _was_ looking out through the windows of the apartment, specifically the heretofore even more rarely used bedroom. Behind him, on the sinfully comfortable bed[1], was sprawled one very beloved demon, fast asleep and taking up far more of the mattress than Aziraphale thought was actually possible. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t actually possible and Crowley was working some sort of demonic miracle to make it that way.

Aziraphale had actually slept himself, something he didn’t often do. He usually spent the night time hours reading or cataloguing new books but Crowley had offered an entirely different, far more delightful temptation and, well, Aziraphale had always been very bad at resisting Crowley’s temptations. Of course, the temptations Crowley directed towards him had never really been designed to corrupt him or make him Fall but always to delight him and please him. He knew that, even if he’d sometimes protested otherwise, more for the sake of it than because he believed it. But he knew that Crowley knew that.

He stared out at the darkened Soho streets and sipped at the cup of tea he’d miracled for himself[2]. He’d been rather enjoying sleeping with Crowley. It was soothing and comfortable and just so… ineffably wonderful to have his demon curled up around him after so many years of _wanting_ and _desiring_ and not ever being able to _have_ for various reasons. He suspected Crowley felt much the same and that made his heart clench in a way he’d only ever read about before. 

He’d still be asleep with Crowley in his arms right now if he hadn’t woken with a strangled and smothered shout from a terrible nightmare. Somehow he hadn’t woken Crowley but he’d been so shaken, he’d needed to get up. Hence his current position, wrapped up in a very comfy dressing gown and sipping tea. He knew about dreaming, of course – even had a few old books about interpreting dreams – but he’d only ever had pleasant dreams on the few occasions he’d slept in the past. Nightmares were certainly as unpleasant as he’d read about and he was still a little unnerved by it.

“Whhrzz… angel?”

Aziraphale turned to find that Crowley had woken up… sort of. He was now scrunched up on the bed, twisting just enough to peer at Aziraphale, his eyes thin slits with only a hint of their normal yellow to be seen.

“I’m here,” he said softly.

“Why’re you over there?” Crowley slurred. “Sh’ld be here.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, feeling the love he felt, had felt for so many millennia[3], for Crowley want to just leap out of his chest. It helped to banish some of the fear/anguish/terror that the nightmare had left inside him.

On the bed, Crowley squinted a little more. “Are you… glowing?”

Aziraphale looked down at himself and chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

“C’mere,” Crowley muttered, waving a hand somewhere in the general direction of both Aziraphale and the bed. 

Aziraphale drew in a breath then let it out again. “In a moment, dear.”

Crowley’s eyes somehow narrowed even further[4] and he woke up a bit more. “Angel? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, love,” Aziraphale said, hoping that the endearment would distract Crowley. It did but not enough[5].

Crowley slithered off the bed and sloped over towards Aziraphale. The angel would have made a chiding comment about Crowley’s nudity, the cool night air and how perhaps a dressing gown might be in order but he was rather distracted by the effect Crowley was achieving in combining his nudity and the Effort he was currently making with his usual manner of walking. It was _very_ distracting and Aziraphale didn’t consider that perhaps the whole thing had been intended that way until Crowley was snuggling up to him and sneaking a hand through the gap in the dressing gown he was wearing in order to rest his hand on Aziraphale’s waist. He then let his chin settle on Aziraphale’s shoulder and the sigh he made sounded a little like a hiss. It was, oddly enough, very much like being wrapped up in Crowley’s snake form but without the actual snake.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Crowley murmured into his ear.

Aziarphale shivered then sighed and relaxed into Crowley’s embrace. “I had a nightmare, dear. It was rather unsettling.”

“They usually are,” Crowley replied, pressing a kiss to the side of Aziraphale’s neck. “What was it about?”

Aziraphale was silent as he struggled to find the words he needed to explain. “It was… Heaven,” he finally said. “Coming after us again.” His voice dropped into a haunted whisper. “Coming after you. Because of me. Because of us.”

The words might have been simple but his voice was full of all the fear and dread and pain that had been lingering within him since the Apocalapse and their successful forays into Heaven and Hell in each other’s guise. He truly _was_ afraid that Heaven or Hell would come after either or both of them but more than that, he was… heartsore. He’d been so desperately clinging to the tattered remnants of his faith in Heaven and the other angels[6] and when he’d heard about his trial – or lack thereof – and Gabriel’s words to Crowley-as-him, those last remnants had been ripped out of his hands and shattered into a million irretrievable pieces. It had felt like something inside of him had shattered as well.

“They probably will eventually,” Crowley said, his voice soft but matter-of-fact. “But it won’t be soon. I reckon we’ve got a few hundred years before they summon up enough courage to check on us and see what’s going on.” Aziraphale nodded but Crowley wasn’t finished. “As for Heaven…” He shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. “You’re better than all of them, you know.”

Aziraphale gave a sad smile and snuggled into Crowley a bit more. “I wish I believed that. I’m afraid I’ve never been a terribly good angel.”

“Rubbish,” Crowley said with conviction. “You’ve always been the best of the lot. Gabriel and the rest of those idiots wouldn’t know goodness if it tripped them up then bit their arses.”

Aziraphale giggled at the mental image then groaned. “See? Not a good angel at all!”

“Bollocks,” Crowley said. “Look, you might not be a by the book angel but I think recent events have shown that She’s not interested in doing things by the book. If She was, we’d be in a lot more trouble right now.”

That made Aziraphale stop and blink. He hadn’t quite gone that far in his thinking but he had to admit, there was some truth in it. If God had really wanted the End of Days to come about, it would have, no matter what they did. But it hadn’t. Because they… well, more Adam really, had not followed the book. In fact, Adam had outright rejected the book.

“I think you’re what She had in mind when She created the angels,” Crowley said softly. “She only needed to get it right once.”

“Twice,” Aziraphale said in a blinding flash of intuition. “She got it right twice.”

He could feel the way Crowley tensed then forced himself to relax again. “Me?” He gave a bitter laugh. “I Fell.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “For doing far less than I have over the millennia but…” He turned so he could cradle Crowley’s face with his hands, the cup of tea quickly miracled onto the nearest flat surface. “Have you ever considered that the reason you Fell wasn’t because you asked questions or really did anything wrong but because She needed the right demon in Hell? I mean, could you imagine any of the other demons doing what you did? Maybe She put you through that pain not out of anger but so that it would be you and I standing there with Adam. Maybe the reason you Fell is because She trusted you to do the right thing.”[7]

Crowley gaped at him, his mind blank with shock at the very idea. When he finally managed to make his mouth work, all he could say was, “Ngk.”

Aziraphale felt the last of the fear and melancholy brought on by his nightmare fall away with his certainty that he was right about this. And if he was right about this then maybe he didn’t need to worry so much about Heaven or Hell. Be cautious and watchful, yes, but maybe what had happened was what was meant to happen. He’d never truly know if he was right, of course, because God’s plan was _ineffable_ but he was pretty sure he was onto something here.

“Angel,” Crowley said, his voice hoarse. “You never cease to amaze me.”

Aziraphale blushed at the depth of meaning in those words. “I could say the same about you,” he said with a little smile.

A familiar and beloved smirk grew on Crowley’s face but there was something about the way he held himself now that had less of that ageless, endless ache to it and more of a strange kind of acceptance.

“Want me to show you some more amazing things?” he said with a lascivious waggle of his eyebrows.

Aziraphale gave a disapproving huff. “Really, Crowley, must you cheapen the moment with your crude suggestions?”[8]

“I _am_ a demon,” Crowley replied as he wrapped his arms tightly around Aziraphale and lifted him up.

“Unhand me right now!” Aziraphale demanded, smacking at Crowley’s arms. He didn’t mean it and Crowley knew it but they both enjoyed the fun of the playacting.

Crowley shrugged. “Alright then, angel.” 

He tossed Aziraphale onto the bed, drawing a startled yelp which quickly turned into a very interested indrawn breath when Crowley slithered onto the bed and up Aziraphale’s body.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale breathed. “You really must do that… slithery thing more often. That was lovely.”

Crowley stilled as his brain did that freeze and melt thing for a moment then he chuckled and let his forehead drop to rest against Aziraphale’s. He brought one hand up to caress lightly along his cheek. 

“Aziraphale… _angel_…” he said, sounding almost desperately fond and faintly lost. “I love you.”

Aziraphale beamed and he was sure he was probably doing that glowing thing again. “I love you too, darling.”

After that, there was no more need for words.  
  


* * *

  
  
1 Newly miracled just that night because Aziraphale’s old bed dated back to when the shop was first opened and there may well have been _guests_ living in the horsehair of the mattress.[return to text]

2 Not as good as freshly made tea but he’d been oddly reluctantly to leave the bedroom to make it properly… so miracled tea would have to do.[return to text]

3 It would be somewhat inaccurate to say that Aziraphale had fallen in love with Crowley in 1941. In truth, he couldn’t say precisely when he’d fallen in love with Crowley but he thinks it might have been during the whole business with Noah and the Ark and the Flood. Between Crowley’s concern over the children and finding said demon hiding with a surprising number of those children in the depths of Ark a few days later… well, let’s just say that Aziraphale has been in love with Crowley for a very long time. 1941 was just when he knew he could no longer deny it or try to (erroneously) claim it was just the general love any angel felt for any of God’s creatures.[return to text]

4 Crowley had made something of an art out of narrowing his eyes despite the fact that he wore dark sunglasses for approximately 90% of the time. (A percentage that was dropping of late, mostly because he was spending most of his time with Aziraphale and the angel had always adored his eyes, which made him feel both loved and a little uncomfortable because his eyes had always been an sore spot for him.) He’d gotten so good at it that people could feel him narrowing his eyes even with the glasses in place, which they usually found very unnerving. Which was precisely the point. It had, however, never really worked on Aziraphale.[return to text]

5 That sort of thing usually made Crowley’s brain freeze and then melt into a besotted puddle of demonic goo. But over the millennia, Crowley had developed a finely honed sense for when Aziraphale was upset or in trouble that tended to override the freeze and melt. Making sure Aziraphale was okay was always the priority over his own emotional meltdowns at being openly and freely loved.[return to text]

6 Not God though. His faith in Her was still strong, especially after the whole mess with Adam. Because he thinks that they were right. Armageddon might have been the culmination of the Great Plan but God’s _Ineffable Plan_ was something else entirely. He couldn’t say what though. The plan was, after all, ineffable.[return to text]

7 Crowley once said that Aziraphale was the cleverest person he’d ever known. He’s right.[return to text]

8 Aziraphale was fooling no one right now. [return to text]


End file.
